


Cold

by orphan_account



Category: Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection!Brax has a visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Unexplained human-like anatomy. Can be read as dubcon.

Brax takes off his coat and hangs it on the rack by the door. He does the same with his tie. Then he toes off his shoes, and heads straight for the liquor cabinet in his sitting room. It’s been a long day.

He pours himself a glass of spirit, drinks half, then sinks into the nearest chair with the glass still in his hand. The chair lacks armrests, but the cushions are comfortable. Brax closes his eyes and wiggles his toes in his socks.

“I know you’re there,” he says.

“I don’t doubt it,” comes the reply from a dark corner of the room. Trey steps out of the shadows.

A few silent moments pass, and then she is straddling him. Brax opens his eyes. “To what do I owe this surprise visit?” he asks coolly.

Trey shrugs, then reaches for his drink. She finishes it. She sets the empty glass down on the floor, then straightens back up to face him. “You do it all the time. Why can’t I?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Good. We’re in agreement.” She smirks and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

He fixes his gaze on her. He knows this is definitely Trey, not a shape-shifter; he recognises her telepathic signature. That leaves two possibilities: She’s possessed, or she’s reacting rashly to something significant, something that’s upsetting her, like Gallifrey falling apart. Either way, she’ll regret this later.

Brax decides to let the situation play itself out. If Trey were possessed, then he’d help her, sure. But she’s in no imminent danger, so there’s no need to hurry. On the other hand, if she were being reckless, well, she’ll just have to learn from her mistakes then, won’t she? Brax doesn’t mind being her mistake.

His chest is bare now, and Trey is planting kisses on his collarbone and neck. He tilts his head up to give her better access. She licks his jaw as she untucks his shirt from his trousers, then she runs her hands up and down his torso, rubbing his nipples along the way. 

When she unzips his trousers and strokes his cock through his pants, he draws a sharp breath. She smiles smugly and nibbles at his lower lip.

 

The pair of them had approached this juncture before, only once, a long time ago. Back then, Romanadvoratrelundar ruled her planet with more belligerence and less grace than she exudes now. One night, when the frustration of steering the monolithic Gallifreyan state had become too much for her to bear, she threw herself at someone who admired her idealism, someone who would indulge her positive-sensation-seeking behaviour, someone who would still respect her in the morning and maintain discretion for eternity. She turned to a Time Lord who could absorb her imperfections. 

Brax had stopped her. They never reached the cock-stroking part of the proceedings.

 

A few decades ago, Brax realised that his relationship with Romana was built on a precarious imbalance of power. All the things he did for her could be plotted on a scale between “acting as her guardian” and “acting as her subject”. Now that he no longer sees her as his ward or his ruler, they are equals. 

 

His hands find their way to her trousers, and he pulls her zip downwards. She kisses him. Her tongue explores his mouth, and he kisses back, just as hungrily. Suddenly she pulls away and stands, then steps backwards. She takes off her sandals, trousers and underwear, leaving them scattered on his floor. He pushes his own trousers and underwear down to his ankles, then kicks them off.

She reclaims her position on his lap, and their lips meet again. When Trey starts grinding against his crotch, he moans into her mouth.

Brax fumbles with the little ribbons on her blouse. There are half a dozen of them, forming a line down her front, in lieu of buttons. He breaks their kiss to remark, “Did you really have to wear this?”

She stops grinding, but she’s very much aware of how hard he is beneath her. “Well, since we’re not snogging any more…” She pulls her blouse up and off her head and arms, like a T-shirt. She unhooks her bra, too. “Happy now?” She throws the garments over her shoulder.

He laughs at the exquisite joke, then dips his head to lick one of her nipples. Then he holds the tiny piece of flesh carefully between his teeth, while his hand roughly fondles her other breast.

This tryst has nothing to do with happiness, for either of them. 

Brax sucks on her breasts, alternately. His hands grope her arse. Whenever he grazes her areolas with his teeth, she moans. She continues rubbing her crotch against his. In time, she says breathlessly, “Now, Brax.”

He lets go of her breasts, then moves his arse forwards on the chair and leans back. He wraps a hand around his cock and puts his other arm around Trey’s pelvis to guide her as she takes him.

When he’s all the way inside, they sit still for a while and just stare at each other.

She recalls what affection had felt like. He remembers what love had felt like. They remember, but they don’t feel.

Trey starts moving her hips, backwards and forwards. They don’t take their eyes off one another. Each of them half-expects some sort of emotion to well up from their hearts, but none does. There is no feeling, there is only sensation.

Trey leans forwards, puts her arms around his neck, and licks his ear. He grabs her arse with both hands and squeezes. Her hips begin pumping faster. She bends down to bite him in the neck, deep enough to bruise. He flinches at that, then moves his hands up to her breasts and pinches both of her nipples hard. She grunts. She needs more. She rises slowly, turns around, then impales herself on his cock again. 

She moves up and down his shaft, clenching her vaginal muscles at irregular intervals. Brax lets a groan escape the first time he feels her tightening around him. He brings an arm round to her front, and toys with her breasts. His other hand reaches up towards her face and finds her mouth, then pushes two fingers inside. She sucks and licks.

As Trey gets more wound up, her hip movements become more limited, until she’s bouncing up and down by just a couple of inches. Brax pulls his saliva-coated fingers out of her mouth and rubs her clit, immediately forcefully. Reflexively she whimpers and leans backwards against him, throwing her head onto his shoulder. The last thing she glimpses before shutting her eyes is the ceiling.

He continues abusing her nipples and playing with her clit, all the while basking in her delicious mewling. It doesn’t take long before she’s writhing and coming.

Neither of them moves for some time. Brax’s hands are still on Trey’s chest and labia, though not doing anything.

When Trey gets her breath back, she eases off his still-hard cock and stands. Keeping her back to him, she spreads her legs and bends over. She grips her knees with both hands and says, “Your turn, Brax.”

Brax rises from his seat and pushes his cock back inside her. He grabs both sides of her pelvis and starts thrusting. His hands keep her in place as he pounds into her, hard and fast. 

He comes inside her, just because. When he pulls out, his juice drips down the inside of her thighs. He sits back down, watches the flow, and smiles.

Trey grabs her clothes from the floor and is about to put them on, but she stops. She picks up Brax’s trousers and uses them to wipe his come off of her. Brax laughs. He’s glad he didn’t wear one of his favourite suits today.

He quietly watches Trey’s reverse striptease. Once she’s fully clothed, she pours herself a drink, takes a seat several feet from him, and sips her vodka.

Brax casually says, “I take it you’re not possessed.”

Trey bursts out laughing. After her amusement subsides, she asks, “And what if I was?”

Brax shrugs.

Trey imagines waking up one day and learning that she had fucked Brax while under someone else’s control. She finds that she doesn’t mind the sex part, though she’d certainly like to know who was controlling her and why. She realises she also doesn’t care that Brax would’ve let something like that happen. After all, sex isn’t a big deal. Case in point: She still can’t feel a thing. “Do you want to know why I’m here?”

“Hang on.” Brax retrieves his clothes from the floor, puts on his pants and trousers, then sits back down. “Chilly,” he explains. “Kindly proceed.”

The name Pandora briefly crosses Trey’s mind, as if someone had whispered it into her ear. The thought vanishes as quickly as it arrived. “I just figured I ought to see this Collection of yours. Properly.”

So Gallifrey isn’t falling apart. It occurs to Brax that Romanadvoratrelundar has just shagged him without regard for emotion or consequence. Interesting. “I can take you on a private tour tomorrow.”

“That would be delightful.” She smiles.


End file.
